Page 30 of Fire Island (Fire Island #2)

Twenty-Nine

EVIE

C al smiles at me as he and Emmett walk through the doorway from the café to Iris’s space. The space that right now smells incredible. The aroma of whatever she’s cooking is delectable. Em’s still in his uniform, but a backpack is slung over his shoulder. “Evening, Miss Evie.”

“Hey, Em.” I can barely contain my excitement. For now, I’ve thumbed the engagement ring around my finger so the dazzling diamond my heart gave me is not on display. Iris is upstairs changing. I heard the water start, but this new sofa is too good to leave. So I stayed here, my Kindle in hand.

Cal drops beside me, dotting a kiss on my temple.

“I’m going to head upstairs and change out of these blues.” Em takes the stairs two at a time.

You go, Emmett. I’m sure the shower is big enough for two.

I look back to Cal. “You were gone a while.”

He pulls me into his side. “Yeah, found Em down there.”

I chuckle and rest my head on his shoulder. “You two are something else, you know.”

“Yeah, not too many friendships last as long as ours. But when you go through that much, you know.” He sighs and closes his eyes as his head falls to mine.

We are like an Evie-and-Cal burrito, all wrapped up in each other. Now I wish we’d stayed home, tangled in the sheets to celebrate. But we’d have had to come out of the bedroom sooner or later. Besides, Reese is at home, which makes our usual intimate life harder to pull off.

No more tables, sofas, getting tied to chairs...

“You okay? Your breathing kicked up.” He breaks away, his gaze falling to my face under a frown.

“I’m good . . . thinking about you.”

He raises a brow. “Oh yeah? What kind of thoughts were you having, mo ghràdh?”

“Well, there was this one time a grumpy lighthouse keeper tied me to a chair.”

“Fuck, baby girl.” He runs a hand through his hair, blowing out a breath.

Things escalate between us so fast?—

“Christ, now you’ve done it.” He groans as he sinks his face into my neck, engulfed by my hair.

“That all it takes, sweet man?” I whisper.

“That’s fucking all.”

My hand reaches for his jawline as heat blooms in my center.

Heavens above. That really is all it takes for us.

He slides a hand over my belly. “How long’s Iris been upstairs?” His voice is low, rough.

“A couple minutes.”

His hand slips under my dress.

“What about Em?” I ask.

“I guess he’ll need a shower, too. Maybe we’ve got five minutes?”

His finger slips under the band of my panties, brushing over my aching center. I grab his head, turning it, and capture his mouth with mine. His thumb swirls around my clit as two fingers sink into me. “Oh, god, Cal.”

“Shhh. You’re going to have to swallow those pretty noises this time.”

“I can’t.”

“You want me to stop?”

I shake my head violently. “No, please . . .”

He curls his fingers forward, and I almost buck off the sofa.

Iris’s new sofa.

Shit.

“We should stop,” I pant.

“When you’re done, we will.”

“I—”

His thumb flicks my clit, over and over. My back arches, shoulders digging in as I climb up the back of the sofa. One hand on his jaw, one white-knuckling the arm of the couch. “Please, I’m going t?—”

My mouth gapes on a silent cry as release finds me.

“Good girl. Fuck, I love watching you come.”

He nips my earlobe before scraping his teeth over my neck.

Thunderous footsteps tumble down the stairs.

Emmett.

Cal removes his hand, sliding his fingers into his mouth.

I readjust my dress and suck in long, slow, calming breaths.

My face is flushed, my breathing far too erratic for someone who’s been reading on the sofa.

Em walks past, freshly showered and in a polo and jeans.

Corded forearms and bulging biceps have his shirt straining.

His hair is still damp and a little messy.

Good lord, Iris must be freaking blind.

“Want a beer, Cal?” Em calls from the refrigerator that’s now open.

“Sure, bud.”

Cal tilts my chin with his hand and kisses my lips. “Be right back, mo ghràdh.”

He moves toward the half bath downstairs, and I readjust my now-soaked underwear. We did not think this through. Then I remember the overnight bag we packed—I have spare panties.

I push from the sofa and grab the bag, heading up the stairs.

The shower in Iris’s room is still on.

That means . . .

My jaw drops. I scoff an amused, impressed sound. The water stops.

Shit.

I duck into the spare room and dump the bag on the bed. Unzipping it, I hunt through the mix of clothes until I find another pair of panties. Pulling the ruined ones down, I don the fresh ones. As I bundle up the dirty ones and slip them into the side pocket, a knock comes on the door.

Iris appears in a towel. “Remember pajamas this time?” The smile on her face looks similar to the one that was on mine, and I...

I clamp my mouth shut.

If Iris doesn’t want anyone to know, I’m not going to be the one to spill her secrets. Besides, Cal adores both her and Em. They should be the ones to tell him.

“Yeah, brought it all this time.”

“Good. Give me a hand in the kitchen in a sec?”

“Of course. Meet you down there.”

She pushes off the doorframe, padding down the hallway in the direction of her room.

I zip the bag back up and walk out, pulling the door closed behind me. Something feels grainy in my right eye. Damn contacts. Padding to the main bathroom, I slip in and lean into the mirror. Sure enough, the contact has shifted. I wash my hands and set it right.

It’s then I realize the mirror is framed with condensation. Steam still lingers below the ceiling.

I turn to find the shower wet.

My excitement and hope for Em and Iris deflates.

How did I get that wrong? I was certain Iris looked like she just...

A little confused and disappointed for them, I head downstairs.

The boys are watching some ball game on the television when I make it to the sofa.

Sliding my arms around Cal’s neck and down his chest, I lean over the back of the sofa.

The ring glints in the light of the television in the darker space.

Em doesn’t notice.

At least, he doesn’t say anything if he does.

When I hear Iris walk down the stairs, I move my mouth to Cal’s ear. “I’m going to help Iris, okay?”

He turns his head, pecking my cheek before turning back to the game.

“Come on!” Em shouts. “The hell, man .”

Cal chuckles. “Sucks to be on the losing team, bud.”

I shake my head and walk to the kitchen. Iris is already plating up something that’s been bubbling away on the stove in large bowls. I suspect that’s the amazing smell we were hit with when we first arrived. She hands me a plate, and I take it with my right hand. “What is this?”

“Ah, this is the legendary McCreary stew. We start making it when fall starts to show its face.”

“That’s now?”

She chuckles. “That’s this week sometime, I think. Cal’s the weatherman.”

I can’t help but smile.

“Here, take these out and come back for the bread, will you?”

“Of course.” I take the bowls to the table and head back for the bread.

As I reach the kitchen, Iris is rifling through the cupboard, trying to find something. Two empty bowls sit by the large pot on the stove. “You want these two filled up?”

“Sure,” she says, her head still stuck in the cupboard.

I take the ladle in my left hand and pour a generous amount in each bowl. When I set the ladle on the spoon rest, Iris is by my side with a jar of something in her hand.

I place the full bowl on the counter beside her.

She blinks, her gaze following my hand. My ring-clad hand. Hesitating, she stares at me. “Evie!”

“Yeah?” Happiness stretches my face.

“Holy shit!” The jar crashes to the floor. Iris jumps up and down, her hand covering her mouth. “You—are Cal and y—” She squeals and jumps on the spot again. Her face breaks, positively exploding with joy. “Evie—oh my god!”

I slide the plates onto the countertop when Iris looks set to burst. She flies at me, arms folding around me in the tightest squeeze.

I chuckle.

“Emmett! Get in here!” Iris calls as she releases me. I can’t take my eyes off her ecstatic face, and I absolutely didn’t miss that the first person she wants to talk to is Em. My work here is done.

I chuckle under a huffy breath when Em flies into the room, his hand gripping the doorframe, worry scrunching his face. “Irry, what is it?”

She crosses the couple of feet to where he stands and grabs his shirt at its opening. With Emmett standing in front of me, Iris snatches up my left hand and holds it under his nose. “Look!”

Suspense claims her pretty features, her bottom lip pulled through her teeth.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Cal?” I interject softly.

“I’m here,” he says, his low voice coming from by the door. I find him leaning on the doorway, happiness beaming all over his gorgeous face.

Emmett folds me into his arms. “Congratulations, Miss Evie. Told you he’d find his way back. And then some.”

Now emotion floods my senses, burning behind my eyes. “Thank you.”

Without Em, there is a high chance neither Cal nor I would be here.

“Anytime.” He releases me to Iris. “Welcome to the family.”

He gives me a Cheshire cat grin with crazy eyes, and Iris slaps his arm as she rolls her eyes at him. “Ignore him, we McCrearys are the essence of good people, and we are honored to call you one of our own. Besides, I always wanted a sister.”

Now Cal huffs a laugh and pushes from the frame. “If you’re all done with the squealing, I’m hungry.”

He folds himself around me from behind and drops his face into my neck with a low groan.

“Me Cal. Me hungry. Me eat Evie...” Em winks at me.

“You’ll keep, bud,” Cal mutters, rising his head to glare at his best friend.

Iris gives Em a hard look as she walks past with two bowls, heading for the dining table. “Come on, you dunderheid.”

Em springs into action, following Iris as she sashays toward the table. God, those two are killing me.

“Em’s not wrong. I could eat you right now, baby girl.”

“But I’m so hungry.” I lean my head back, running a hand behind his neck and into his hair. “And it smells so good.”

“Hmmmm. Yeah, you do.”

I chuckle and he nips my neck before resting his hands on my shoulders and guiding me to the dining table. We sit across from Iris and Em in our places, and Iris was right—we feel like a family.